Sookie's Christmas Carol
by SibylVaneWrites
Summary: My entry for the Naughty or Nice Contest- Sookie has some ghostly visitors on Christmas Eve to show her the error of her ways. Rated M for lemonyness.


**Naughty or Nice Contest**

**Title: Sookie's Christmas Carol**

**Your Pen name: SibylVane Vamp**

**Beta'd by: Team Jane, without whom this would never have been completed. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, Charlaine Harris is the master of SVM and Charles Dickens a great inspiration.**

I was just not in the spirit this year. After everything that had happened, I couldn't make myself enjoy the holidays. It'd been months since I had spoken to Eric; Bill was still healing, Claudine was dead, Gran was gone, Jason was, well… Jason, Amelia moved out, Arlene went crazy, and I got the impression Sam was mad at me for living my life the way I did. What was there to be joyful about?

I was planning to spend the holidays alone anyways, pretending that it was any ordinary day. I could sleep late, curl up with a book in front of the fireplace and enjoy my solitude. No intrusions, no politics, no servitude. It made me angry when I thought of everyone else going about with Christmas cheer, when there was very little to be cheerful about. Namely all the reasons I had already mentioned. I was happier on my own. Everyone could take their Merry Christmas and shove it, cause I was not in the mood.

Christmas Eve was my last shift of the year. Somehow I managed to get New Years Eve off work, but I didn't have any plans. I thought Sam was trying to keep me from ruining everyone's festivities by giving me the night off. Peddling booze required smiles and patience, something I had little of these days.

I walked into Merlotte's to see most of the town had stopped in for a Christmas drink with co-workers and the noise was deafening. I could still make out the constant round of carols in the background. If I heard Madonna sing "Santa Baby" one more time I might've stabbed my eardrum with a pen. Andy Bellefleur was sitting at the bar with the rest of our little police force; he'd been going on about how nice it would be to have the family together for Christmas at the mansion this year for weeks now. He had the nerve to wish me a Merry Christmas. My response was simply, "Uh huh."

My co-workers had the sense to avoid me, at least they knew better than to talk about the holidays, or anything related when I was around. I had heard them all- at first they just wanted to cheer me up, thought I was lonely and sad. But now they were clued in that I just wanted to be left alone, their thoughts had turned from warm and caring to hurtful and annoyed.

Sam told me I could leave early, and I was more than ready to go. It was only ten o'clock, but I didn't care. It was not like I needed the money for gifts.

Finally, in the sanctuary of my car I had a moment's peace. I was not being bombarded with everyone else's Christmas garbage. No more listening to shopping lists, worrying about in-laws coming to stay, or planning the perfect menu. No stress for me. Let them have their turkey, and presents, and family members.

The drive home was quiet, and I had my head to myself for once. I arrived home, realizing that I'd forgotten to leave the porch light on. Fumbling with my keys and cursing under my breath, a chill crept across the back of my neck and I swiveled around to see nothing in the blackness of the yard. I managed to get the door unlocked, but before I could get inside, a gust of frigid air blew the handle out of my grip and swung the door inward. Great, the perfect end to a perfect day, I thought.

The darkened house creaked under my feet as I located the light switch for the hallway. I flicked it on, but nothing happened. I tried another, still nothing. With the small flashlight I kept on top of the fridge for emergencies such as this in hand; I examined the fuse box. With nothing out of place the problem must've been on the service end. I lit a candle and headed to my bedroom, Gran's bedroom.

The floor creaked as it always had, but there was a new sound too. The sound of wood on wood. I rounded the corner to see Gran's rocking chair swaying gently by the bed. Must be a draft from the window, I concluded. Climbing into bed and blowing out the candle, I settled in for a good long rest.

The creaks and other sounds of the house settling were louder than usual, and I had trouble shutting them out. The wind howled across the windows and the leaves rustled in the yard. Gran's chair rocked louder, and then thudded to the floor with a crash. Someone was in here!

"Eric!" I yelled, "Bill? Is that you? Who's there?"

Nothing.

Terrified, I reached for the candle and fought with my unsteady hand to light it as the match caught a shadow that appeared on the wall. I squinted, turning my head frantically around the room looking for its source. There wasn't one. "Sookie," I heard the wind whisper…

"Boo!" a familiar voice shouted in surprise.

I was face to face with my beloved grandmother. My beloved dead grandmother.

"Oh Sookie, it's so good to see you darling," she said, embracing me.

"Gran?" I said, in a shocked whisper.

"Yes dear. Now I am here to warn you, I have seen the way you've been living and I can't allow it. This is not how you were brought up to behave," she wagged her finger at me while she spoke.

"I didn't choose this life for myself! The vamp stuff and the Weres, and the Fairies, if anyone you are to blame. Why didn't you tell me?" I accused.

"Oh Honey, I don't care who you date, or what creatures you make friends with. You were not brought up to treat people this way. You have to change, Sookie. Christmas is a time of joy and forgiveness; if you continue to push everyone away a terrible fate with befall you," she remarked as the candle flickered.

"Don't you think you are being a tad over dramatic?" I asked.

"It comes with the job. You don't believe me, I can tell. But, tonight you will be visited by three spirits. You must choose Sookie; this is my Christmas wish for you, the path to your salvation. The first will come when the clock strikes one. Goodbye dear."

The candle flickered again and then suddenly went out. I sat perfectly still as the warm wax dripped onto my hand. Ghosts? Now it was ghosts? Like I didn't have enough supernatural bull in my life already.

I must have fallen asleep, because some noise startled me awake. This was all a dream, the product of too much stress, the product of being a victim of too much. I didn't believe in ghosts. I had seen enough myth and legend come to life before me, but I had never heard anything about ghosts. Just sleep it off; you'll feel better tomorrow, I told myself. And I closed my eyes.

****

I jumped out of my skin, the darkness obstructing my view of the source. The ringing was loud and continuous, a familiar sound, like a smoke detector. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Scrambling around in bed I turned towards the noise to see my alarm clock lit. One a.m.; slowing my breath, I reached for the clock to shut it off. Guess the power was back on.

The assault on my ears halted, and I reached for the lamp on the bedside table. The little red numbers were all I could make out in the darkness. Again, I turned the switch on the lamp, but again nothing happened. A clap came from the darkness and the lamp illuminated the room instantly. What the hell?

Claudine stood at the foot of the bed, hands folded. She was towering over me in the lamp light, smiling.

"I'm the ghost of Christmas past," she said as I sighed and hauled myself out of bed, throwing my robe on over my nightgown.

"Don't scare me like that! Niall told me you had gone to the Summerland; are you ok?" I questioned her, pulling her down to my height and wrapping my arms around her.

"I'm just here to show you around. It's a temporary gig, but a lot less work than being your guardian angel," she smiled in response, removing my arms from her neck.

Once again she brought her hands together and clapped loudly, the sound of it blotting out the lights. A spinning sensation took me off my feet and I landed on my bottom looking up from the floor at my brother's house. Claudine helped me up as I looked around.

It certainly looked like the same house, but the pizza boxes and beer cans that normally lined the kitchen counters were gone. There was a real fir Christmas tree in the corner lit up with icicle lights and covered in tinsel. Pretty packages were stacked neatly underneath; this could not be Jason's house. It looked the way it had when I was a kid, when this had been my parents' house.

I gasped as I saw the two little blond heads bob into the living room and plant themselves under the tree. I was staring at my six year old self. It had been a hard year; the year I'd learned to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. It was the year I learned to fake a smile. All the tests with doctors and psychologists, all the fights my parents had about what they were going to do with me, was a lot for a six year old to handle. I was watching my last Christmas in my parents' house.

"They can't see you, or hear you, and you can't hear them either; you are on a different plane than them," Claudine said, tapping her temple as she said hear, indicating my lack of telepathy here. "This was the last year you really had the holiday spirit," she added.

"I could always hear them, but it was so jumbled up with everything else. A lot of it I didn't understand, but that was the year I knew for certain there was no Santa Claus. That was the year I knew what every gift under the tree was, and I knew it was exactly what I had asked for."

"What did you ask for?" Claudine said, as if she didn't know the answer.

"I really wanted the Barbie dream house, but it was very expensive. My father told my mother that they would find a way to afford it and get us kids both what we really wanted," I answered, as I watched the younger version of myself open Christmas presents with a genuine smile plastered on.

Jason's younger self opened his most treasured Christmas gift- a top of the line BB gun. Jason's love for quality firearms started young. My father had even spent a little extra to get him a set of targets and other accessories.

The room spun away and I was standing in my house again, this time I saw myself as a teenager. Still growing into my body, maybe a little bit of acne on my cheeks, but all in all a pretty girl. That was the year Tara convinced me to go to the holiday dance at school. I'd found a dress at a second hand store and Gran had altered it to fit. She did my hair and helped me add a little bit of make-up. "Nice girls don't wear too much," she told me.

"This was the Christmas your heart was broken, I believe," Claudine said, alerting me that she hadn't left my side.

I nodded, watching myself sit and explain the whole evening to Gran. I shivered at the kitchen table, while mascara ran down my cheeks and strands of hair wildly hung out at my temples. One of her homemade afghans was wrapped around my dampened figure.

I had been dancing with a boy I liked at school ignoring his typical teenage boy thoughts that involved what was under my dress, because the rest of the time his thoughts centered around how much he liked me. He was thinking about how he didn't care if his friends thought I was crazy, he liked me anyways. The whole time we danced, he kept his mind on gentlemanly things and was even thinking about asking me to go steady with him. His name was Michael; he was the first boy I'd ever kissed right on the dance floor. His soft lips nervously touched mine and his arms wound tighter around my waist. We stopped moving with the music; lost to the passion of our teenage hormones.

After the dance he asked if he could drive me home, and I accepted. I told him I had to go to the bathroom before we left and he told me he would wait out front to get some air. I read it in his mind as I approached the car; he didn't want to do it, but that didn't stop him. And then I was soaking wet.

His friends had caught up with him at his car, and with a little push he changed his mind about his feelings for me. They convinced him that the joke was over and that he should say he had only asked me to dance on a dare. He said hurtful things to me as my drenched clothing clung to my body. All of them had a good laugh at my expense. I didn't date again until I was twenty.

"Don't you have any other happy Christmases to show me?" I dared to ask my guide.

"Sure, but those are not as important," she replied, shrugging.

Clapping once again, the scene spun away and I was back in my room. Back to my bedside lamp and my alarm clock's glowing red numbers. I looked around, crawled into bed and timidly called, "Claudine?"

There was no answer. I was alone, again. Assuming she had even been there, maybe that was a dream too. Maybe I fell out of bed and hit my head. I should leave my self reflection for a better time. I rolled over, pulling the covers to my chin and turned out the light.

****

Ouch! I flicked at the bothersome pain in my right shoulder, not taking the trouble to open my eyes. I rolled over, determined to get back to sleep. It came again, something digging into my flesh, quick little jabs, three at a time. I raised my arms up to bat it away, but it wouldn't stop. Finally, I caught it; it felt like a finger in my hand, an icy cold, hard finger. Someone was poking me!

"Oh good, sleeping beauty has decided to grace me with her presence," said the voice at the end of the finger.

Opening my eyes, I saw someone I never expected to see ever again.

"Clancy? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom!?" I yelled at him.

In my half conscious state I'd forgotten Clancy was dead. When the haze cleared and my mind caught up, I was all the more shocked to find him standing in my darkened room. He sat on the side of my bed that had previously been reserved for his Master.

His voice full of the hatred he still held for me. "Two a.m. wake up call," he said, "I'm the ghost of Christmas present- at least as far as you're concerned."

"Why don't you just leave me alone? I don't believe in ghosts," I screamed at him, stamping my feet.

Suddenly he fell to the floor, convulsing, holding himself around the middle as if to stop the bleeding from some invisible wound. Clancy curled into a ball and whimpered. Having never seen this behavior in a vampire before, let alone a dead one, I rushed to his side and knelt to the ground. He gritted his teeth in pain and squealed my name.

"Oh my God, Clancy, I'm sorry; I didn't mean it. I believe, I believe," I hollered, grasping his hand in mine.

Faster than lightning he was on his feet, grinning from ear to ear. "This is not Peter Pan; you can't just say you don't believe in me and I'll go away," he laughed.

"Oh, very funny; so you think faking that you're in pain is a great way to earn my trust? Why should I listen to anything you have to say now?"

"I don't give a shit what you think; this isn't exactly a picnic for me, having to show you around. I don't care if you don't like Christmas. I got the short straw; so I gotta come back here and show you all the great stuff you are missing out on," he sneered at me.

Sighing, "Let's get it over with," I said.

Sweeping me off my feet in one fluid motion I was being carried at an alarming speed. The night air whipped around my face as Clancy ran. As much as I didn't like him, or him me, I held on to his neck very tightly. A moment later we entered Merlotte's, just after closing time. Clancy set me on my feet and I ducked into a corner station in hopes of hiding myself.

Sam was sipping a beer from behind the bar, while the rest of the staff perched on the stools. They were smiling and laughing, while they sipped their own drinks. Sam cleared his throat, raised his bottle and toasted the crowd.

"Well, I'd like to say thank you and Merry Christmas to all of you. It's really great to have you all here for a holiday drink. I know many of you are anxious to get home to your families tonight, but I wanted to express my warmest wishes to you all. Most of you I'll be seeing next week and the rest of you after the New Year, so everyone take care and drive safe," he said, tipping the bottle to his lips and finishing the liquor in one swig.

The majority of the crowd cleared out; a few of the girls remained behind nursing their drinks, chatting and laughing. We drew closer; I was trying to be careful not to be noticed. Clancy pulled my sleeve towards him and reminded me that I was invisible to everyone else, and that I would not be able to hear their thoughts either, because I wasn't really there. Whatever that meant.

"Too bad Sookie had to miss this huh?" Sam asked them, still trying to be sympathetic to me even after weeks of snapping at him.

They all looked down at their drinks and nodded, but once Sam was out of earshot, they spoke.

"I know Sam has a soft spot for her, but honestly, she is such a Scrooge. I'm glad he let her off early," Joanne, one of the new girls, said.

"I know, and to think we used to be friends, sorta. I'm not even sure the real Sookie is in there anymore," Holly agreed.

"Well, thanks for that," I said turning to Clancy, "can we leave now?"

"There are a few more stops to make," he said, gathering me again and racing out the door.

Before I realized where we were headed, we arrived at Bill's door. Clancy put me on my feet once again and ushered me into Bill's large living room. My ex-lover was wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch, coughing up blood. I knew he was bad, but this bad…

I sat next to him, examining him very closely for any further injury. Looking up at Clancy with pleading eyes I hoped for something of an explanation.

"He's much better, really," he replied, the single gesture of kindness he'd ever shown me.

Bill sipped his True Blood and turned his attention to the TV. The late night movie was _It's A Wonderful Life_ with Jimmy Stewart, one of my Gran's favorites. It was very near the end; George Bailey was running though the streets of Bedford Falls shouting Merry Christmas to everyone and everything. I saw a single bloody tear on Bill's stone face before he wiped it away and turned the television off.

"I wanna go," I told Clancy.

He shrugged in response and once again he was running. Despite the chill of the evening, and my traveling companion, I didn't feel cold. I guess it was because I wasn't really there. I slipped into my thoughts, wondering about what Jason was doing. He told me he'd been invited over to the Fortenberry house, and he reluctantly offered to ask if they would mind having one more. I declined, as he hoped I would. I was glad however, to hear that he would not be spending the holidays out in Hotshot, because Lord knows he caused enough trouble out there for me to deal with.

This jog Clancy was on seemed considerably farther than anywhere we'd been tonight. The scenery was passing too fast for me to get a handle on where exactly I was, but we were not in Bon Temps anymore. Abruptly, my guide came to a stop and comprehension flooded over me. I didn't want to be here either.

The jazzy red letters told me exactly what I was in for; the noise told me that I was not too late for the party. We didn't take the main entrance; instead the vampire ghost led me around the back to the employee door I was familiar with. My senses were overloaded as I followed. Sweat and booze filled my nostrils, while the strobe and other flashing lights of the dance floor assaulted my tired eyes. As if I were tethered to Clancy somehow, I couldn't resist the pull to follow him to the one door I knew I was destined to see behind.

The passage was clear, and my guide stepped aside to allow me entrance. Of course he would look exactly the same as the last time I saw him, but my memories had not done him justice. Sitting behind his desk, lost in a thought, brows knit, was Eric. I'd forgotten how truly breathtaking he was. His hair rested on his broad shoulders as he sat completely still. The fire in his icy blue eyes was not as visible tonight, but the sight of him still made my stomach flip flop.

I'd been staring, mouth open, when a female voice broke the silence, rousing me from my daydreams.

"Master, I beg you, just come out onto the floor. There are many delicious morsels out there that would love to have you for the night," Pam teased.

"I'm not interested; besides, I'm working back here," Eric replied, without bothering to hide his frustration.

"I wish you would stop brooding over that human. You used to enjoy this time of year so much. Remember the time we ate all the carolers? Or that trip to Moscow we took? You had way too much fun with those Cossacks. And when we went to see the Rockettes? I still think that little brunette was on to us," she smiled fondly reflecting on their adventures.

"I am not brooding; I just want to do some work in peace. When I ask for your opinion on how I run my life, you'll know," he slammed back at her.

Looking a bit hurt, but not down yet, Pam pushed her luck. "If you don't want to go to the party, I'll bring the party to you," she said, bounding out the door.

A moment later, she returned with a young woman on her arm. A brief smile crossed her lips, before returning to her expressionless look. The girl was very pretty; there was no doubt about that. She had an innocent look to her, large brown eyes, full lips, and a slight build. Pam winked at the girl as she stepped out of the office, closing the door behind her.

As she did she said, "I think this one is your type."

Eric growled and stood up from his desk, pushing away a stack of papers as he did so. The young woman looked fearful and took a step back. Then he spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you, please leave. You can go out the back way, down the hall."

"Did I do something wrong? Pam said I was prefect for you," she looked up at him through her long lashes, coyly.

"Well, she was wrong," he said.

The girl didn't press any further and did as she was asked, heading down the hall and out of the bar. The office door swung open again and Pam stood in the entryway. Her brow was furrowed, lips pursed, but one look at her Master's face and her annoyance was gone. He wasn't angry with her, he was blank. She closed the door and perched on the desk, leaning into him.

"This is very troubling; I don't like seeing you this way. Why don't you pick up the phone and call her? We both know that's what the old you would've done. You are Eric Fucking Northman! You take what you want; you don't wait around for an invitation," she urged him.

"I don't like it anymore than you do… I am not having this conversation with you… I do not even know what you are talking about," he sputtered, resuming his seat at the desk busying himself with a new stack of papers.

"Uh-huh," was all Pam said in response before she sauntered out of the room, slamming the door angrily behind her.

Mesmerized by the picture that had just unfolded before me I was startled by Clancy's words.

"Time to go," he said with relief.

****

I don't remember climbing back into bed. But I was sleeping restlessly, and as I rolled onto my left side I felt something, or someone in bed beside me. The cold hard skin of a vampire brushed against my bare leg. My first thought was of Eric, but the skin was too smooth, feminine. "Pam?" I muttered.

"Guess again," the voice came from the pillow next to mine; this time it wasn't one I recognized.

Suddenly I was pinned to the bed, my shoulders held tightly to the mattress. The weight of the unknown vampire crushed my chest. Fangs scraped my jugular and I tried to scream, fighting frantically against the iron grip of my attacker.

"I'm surprised you don't remember me, after all you were my executioner," the husky voice whispered in my ear.

The weight lifted and my arms were freed. A cackle came from above me and as I flicked on the light, I knew the face at once. Tonight I really was being haunted.

"Lorena," I breathed.

"Yes; I am the ghost of Christmas future. I am very excited to show you what is to come," she laughed again.

The light was blotted out at once, and I felt my mattress fall away. With a thud I landed on a new cushion. The light was dim, but it was there. As I took in my surroundings I saw Lorena appear at my side, leaning against the leather wingback chair I'd fallen into. Garland sprays decorated the walls and mistletoe hung in the doorway, directly above a cheap looking blonde vampire and some stringy man-whore fangbanger she was enjoying.

The kiss was broken and as the vamp turned away from her subject I caught a glimpse of her face. My face! I swallowed hard, trying to form words, but none came. Lorena giggled in the darkness and I turned to her with a look of horror. She nodded to indicate that there was more to see. I reluctantly watched the display, hoping it would afford me some answers as to how my fate came to be.

My vampire self strolled into the hallway and I followed as quickly as possible. Rounding the corner I knew where I was at once; Fangtasia. It looked run down, and poorly managed. Eric would never allow such a thing to happen. That was why I didn't recognize the room- it had been Eric's office, but it looked nothing like it once had. Pam wasn't as strict as he, but she took pride in this place, and she enjoyed a handsome return on her work. Could it be she was running things?

The undead me took a seat in Eric's usual booth. There were very few customers on the dance floor and fewer vamps. Not one I could identify by name. I, no- cheap vamp me- removed a pouch from her cleavage, _classy_; and turned the small item over in her hands. I inched closer to see the red rimming her eyes; she brushed the bloody tears away violently, and then looked to see if anyone had noticed before gazing back at the object in her hands.

A bullet, Eric's bullet. The one I had sucked from his body; the one he had taken for me. Nothing about this made sense, where was he? Where was Pam? Why was I turned? And just what the hell was I doing wearing tight black leather pants? Turning to Lorena questioningly, she met my eye with what could only be described as glee.

"This is your future, Merry Christmas," she said, reveling in my pain.

"But I don't understand what this is? What am I seeing?" I gestured to my future self.

"He's dead, buttercup. He refused to give you over to the King, murdered by Victor in an attempt to defend you from being taken. Victor saw the opportunity to claim you after you refused to recognize the bond, and your ceremonial position as Eric's wife. Pam fulfilled his dying wish of defending you, but when you were wounded she made the choice to turn you. She was disposed of before you awoke and once turned you were of no more use to Felipe. Bill was punished for his involvement, but he helped you for the first few months of your new life. Eric left you the bar and all of his other assets- as you were his companion," she explained.

With every word she said I grew colder. I watched myself again, lonely, undead, pathetic. I couldn't let this happen. I didn't want to be a vampire. I began to shake, falling to my knees, I begged her.

"How can I change this? How can this be prevented?" I pleaded at her feet.

She enjoyed my sorrow, cackling, sneering at me as she kicked my hands from the hem of her dress. Taking my wrists in her grip, she hauled me to my feet and with one hand around the back of my neck she thrust my face within mere inches of the pathetic excuse for a vampire I was to become. The tears flowed down my face as I gave into the grief, my vision blurred and I stumbled, wailing. Lorena was gone.

"Wait! What do I do? Please!" I begged, searching for her.

When I reached the back door of the bar, barreling though I discovered I was not in the alley I knew, but in my own bedroom. I crashed to the floor, stifling the sobs in my chest; it was not too late! Glancing at the clock I knew I had little time to spare. Not bothering to dress; I ran to retrieve my keys and bounded down the front porch to my car. I hoped I would make it there in time.

****

I left the car running, and the driver's side door open, as I pushed and pulled on the locked handle. Why did they even bother to lock up? Who was stupid enough to rob a vampire? I banged on the employee door; feet kicking, fists beating, yelling for someone to let me in. There was a click and forcefully the door swung outwards missing me by a very small fraction. The massive figure I'd longed to see filled the doorway, making it look small.

Jumping to meet him I threw my arms around his neck as he caught me in his own strong arms "Eric! You're alive," I said, tightening my grip.

"Hello, Sookie," he said, confused by my sudden appearance at his bar in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve.

"It's still Christmas right? I didn't miss it?" I asked, still in his arms.

"You didn't miss it," he replied closing the door and carrying me down the hall to his office.

"Is this a Christmas tradition I am not familiar with?" he asked, puzzled.

"You'd never believe me if I told you, but I have had a wild night," I answered, unsure how to explain anything that had occurred.

"I'm sure I would, you are after all wearing your nightgown," he grinned.

"I had a dream, a terrible dream that you were dead, and I was a ho vamp."

"You think it would be a horrible thing if I was dead?" he asked in a tone so unlike his regular confident self.

"Of course I would; I love you, when I thought it might be true I had to make sure you were alright."

The next thing I knew his lips were on mine, moving tirelessly in pursuit of my kisses. He held my face in his hands, and looking into my eyes he said, "You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that. I've been miserable without you; please don't push me away again. I love you, Sookie."

"I've missed you too," I said, before his kisses stopped me again.

I kissed him back; the passion I felt was more intense than it had ever been in the past. Knowing he loved me was the ultimate aphrodisiac, and I devoured his kisses as though I hadn't eaten in days. My hands in his hair, his in mine, his lips pounded against me; I surrendered to him. A surge of lust racked through my body and I lost the feeling in my fingers and toes. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted Eric like I had never wanted him before, and he wanted me.

"This is not the most romantic setting…" He said in a whisper, "I want to make love to you."

"That makes all the difference," I smiled and pulled him back to my wanting lips.

Slowly, gently, he slid the shoulders of my nightgown off, stroking my skin with a feather light touch. Though his touch was cool, my skin burned at his fingertips. I felt something I hadn't felt in a very long time- butterflies in my stomach. I shivered with excitement, but Eric mistook my movements as a reaction to his cold skin and stopped his advances. I leaned into him again licking his collar, letting my hands slowly explore his sculpted chest through his shirt.

I rested my cheek in his large hand and turned my lips to kiss his palm. Brushing his other hand delicately across my nipple through the thin fabric I wore, I sighed slowly and reached for the expanding bulge in his jeans. Deliberately taking my time unbuttoning his fly so I could enjoy him fondling my breasts a little longer, I let my nightgown fall to the floor. I told him that I wanted to feel his skin against mine as I rubbed my hands under his shirt. He removed it quickly as I pressed my naked flesh against his chest.

Smoothing my hands across his back and down to his waist I forced his jeans to the floor and we both stood in our underwear; the pile of clothing growing at our feet. Eric stepped out of his jeans and swept me into his arms, laying me down carefully on the couch at the far end of the room. He settled himself above me, inhaling my scent, nuzzling my ear. Tenderly he began to kiss my neck, continuing to my shoulders, and then my chest, a trail from his lips traced down my body.

In one fluid motion Eric removed my cotton panties, continuing to graze his lips along my inner thigh. My breath caught in my throat as he let his tongue dart across my nub. He smoothed his mouth over me and in me, and I couldn't help but tremble with pleasure. His skilled fingers found their way to my core, and his mouth quickened its pace. My body convulsed in sync with my walls closing over Eric's long fingers. I arched my back and held my breath, holding onto the sensation as long as I could. Once relaxed, Eric withdrew his face and hands, bringing him level with my eyes once again. Kissing me once softly and smiling, he slid into me and I accepted him fully.

"I want to be on top; I like it when you have full use of your hands," I said.

Quickly, Eric grasped my hips and swung us into a sitting position. Straddling him and rocking slowly I encouraged him to use both his hands and mouth freely. Gripping my hips he guided my movements in a slow circular motion while he leaned into my chest to tease my nipples with his tongue. I threw my head back and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer to me. He inched to the edge of the cushion with ease, and leaned into me, allowing my legs to enclose his waist.

Tipping my body towards the floor his thrusts became more rapid and I could feel the throbbing of his release, sending me over the edge of my own orgasm. He cried out something I couldn't understand and as our bodies shook in unison I forced his lips to mine, holding him to me.

Panting, I asked, "What did you say? You always yell in another language."

He laughed, "I try to control my swearing with you by shouting it in my native tongue."

"I've heard you swear before," I said, surprised.

"I just figured you might not like me cursing while we are enjoying something so intimate," he smiled and moved to peck my cheek.

Eric moved me aside to rest my head on his chest, and held me for a long time.

"I've been thinking," I said, breaking the comfortable silence.

I heard the rumbling of his laugh grow underneath me, "Uh-oh," he responded.

"I want to throw a Christmas party," I announced.

"You might be a bit late this year, lover," he chuckled.

"Will you help me? Please, I really want to make this right," I said, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"Anything you wish," he answered.

****

I spent most of Christmas morning on the phone making apologies and extending last minute invitations. Sam was delighted to get my call and offered to bring some rum for the eggnog. Bill agreed to stop by, but as he was so ill he would not be able to stay long. Eric had promised to bring Pam along with him, and limited my duties as hostess to opening my home and inviting my guests.

Amelia and I were still in touch, and even though our relationship was uncertain, I invited her and her father for dinner. Jason had plans; he'd told me about being invited to spend Christmas with Hoyt and his family, but he promised to leave early and join me for an after dinner drink. Gradually the evening was coming together.

I received a call from Bobby Burnham, Eric's day man, stating that my deliveries would arrive shortly after two p.m. I felt bad that he was called into service on Christmas of all days, and I couldn't help but wish him a happy holiday before hanging up the phone. I promised myself to convince Eric that Bobby needed a raise. Eric told me he would take care of all the other preparations; he insisted we couldn't host a Christmas party without a tree or turkey dinner. I agreed to let him spoil me, but not to let it become habit.

A caravan of trucks pulled into the driveway; men in uniforms with dollies and clipboards began to assemble on my porch. The Christmas tree was the first to be set up, and when they were done it sparkled with white twinkling lights and blown glass ornaments. It was the most beautiful tree I'd ever seen. A multitude of catering equipment was next on the list- a host of holiday favorites were prepared for my guests and displayed on my Grandmother's china. Eric knew I wouldn't want servers for the party and arranged for everything to be picked up the following day and a cleaning service to arrive shortly after.

Lastly, there were gifts. Wrapped packages of various colors and sizes were piled under my new tree. One present for each of my guests and a few too many for me. Knowing Eric, he'd given this task to an army of personal shoppers who were trained to choose the perfect gift. I smiled at the thought of him.

Sam was first to arrive, followed shortly by Bill. Everyone had promised to get along in my house, and so far the two were sticking by that promise. Amelia and her father arrived next and they both marveled at the décor and food; I had to admit the house looked damn impressive. My heart started to race as I poured my guests each a drink; Eric was on his way to me.

Within ten minutes I was swept up in his embrace, burying my face in his neck. Pam followed, carrying more gifts; one of which looked very suspicious with holes in the box. Nestling all but the holey box under the tree, Pam turned and hugged me with her free arm.

As she did she whispered, "Thank you God for throwing him a bone; I was about ready to chain him up in the basement."

I had set the table for my human guests with all the finery of my Grandmother's spread, and warmed a bottle of True Blood for each of my non-human visitors. Calling everyone in to take their places for dinner, Eric insisted that I open one gift before we start. Holding out the strange box to me, I had a few guesses as to its contents; I lifted the lid and a small meow escaped.

"He'll keep you from getting lonely when I can't be around," Eric said, handing the tiny kitten to me.

"But…"

"Bubba has been given specific instructions not to do any hunting in this area- I told him it would upset you, and he agreed," he butted in, putting my fears to rest as if he could read my mind.

"I think I'll call him Tiny Tim," I giggled to myself.

"I don't have anything…" I started to say, but Eric's mouth on mine stopped me from finishing my thought.

"All I want for Christmas is you," he said, ushering me to the table.

When the plates were cleared away and the gifts all unwrapped, Jason arrived. He held me tight and wished me a Merry Christmas. I couldn't help the flow of tears on my cheeks knowing that _all_ my family was together for Christmas. Joy overwhelmed me, and as Eric took my hand in his I knew what was truly important.


End file.
